


Twilight: Excerpts

by Kimi_f



Series: Twilight [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superboy (Comics), Young Justice (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Kon-El | Conner Kent, Dork Tim Drake, Fluff, M/M, One Shot Collection, Romance, Snippets, Twilight AU, Waynes as Cullens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26333980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimi_f/pseuds/Kimi_f
Summary: When Conner Kent arrives at Edward Elliot High School it makes waves. More so than it should. For a perfectly normal, average, mortal guy Conner sure is weird.Twilight AU. Kind of.(A collection of little snippets written for my Batman Twilight AU. Multiple POV.)
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Twilight [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913569
Comments: 17
Kudos: 95





	1. Chapter 1

There was a new boy sitting beside Stephanie. Tim didn’t make it a habit to stalk his ex, and it wasn’t really his business, but this boy was unfortunately loud. Whoever he was, he made quite an entrance, with a gaggle of half familiar faces gathered around him as he walked across the cafeteria, weaving a tale that left his followers howling in laughter. And Stephanie, who Tim had always known to be above hanging out with people who were so shallow and showy, seemed to be just as enamored.

The kid was large. He looked like a senior, except for maybe the hint of babyface. And he dressed like a knockoff Jason. A leather jacket and converse hightops and, if Tim’s eyes weren’t deceiving him, even earrings.

“What are you doing?”

Tim immediately looked away from where he’d been studying the new face.

_ Staring at the new boy, _ Cass signed. Tim glared, but she just shrugged.  _ I saw him with Stephanie in second period. _

“We really need to sort out that crush of yours. It’s getting creepy.” Jason said to Cass, before turning around and scanning the rest of the cafeteria. “Is he hot?”

Tim didn’t know why he expected better. This was always how Jason was.

“Which one is it?” Jason asked as he finally spotted Stephanie’s table in the middle of the cafeteria.

“The beefy one,” Duke said helpfully.

“Seriously?” Tim asked. Duke just shrugged, and seemed more interested in his food than their conversation.

Jason let out a whistle. “Jesus, what are they feeding him? Are you sure you can handle all that Tim? You may want to find something a little more, ah, your scale.”

“You’re disgusting, Todd,” Damian said, and while there was no love lost between Tim and Damian he had to agree.

Jason clearly thought he was hilarious though, and continued to stare and jab at Tim as he tried to eat his lunch.

“Don’t look now,” Duke said, “He’s looking this way.”

Tim’s head snapped up. Sure enough, across the cafeteria new boy had leaned back in his chair and was staring at them.

Correction.

He was staring at Tim.

Tim knew he had to be blushing. Could feel the heat in his face as this stranger raised his eyebrows and said something without looking away. It was open, and brazen, and he didn’t seem to mind at all that he had been caught. In fact, he smirked. And then someone at the table said something the boy was turning away with an impish grin.

Tim looked away, furious with himself. Duke sighed beside him.

“I told you not to look. Why does no one ever listen to me?”

“Wouldn’t have pegged him for your type,” Jason said, and when Tim looked up to see what Jason was doing he found the other boy staring ahead thoughtfully. And a thoughtful Jason was a dangerous Jason, to say the least.

“I wasn’t staring, I was just curious.”

“Well, maybe you weren’t, but he certainly is.” Jason leaned in, jerking his head back towards Stephanie’s table. “He’s staring at you Timmy.”

There was an explosion of laughter from the table and it took everything in Tim’s power not to look. “Well I’m sure Stephanie will give him all the sordid details he needs.”

“She wouldn’t do you dirty like that and you know it.”

“I have homework to do,” Tim snapped, and he stood up, grabbing his things, and left without looking back at the table once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am so excited to say I finished the first draft of the ending of my main fic, Twilight~! I am very excited but can't post until it's edited. However it's been so long since I've been able to update that I figured there was no harm in posting a celebratory one shot! I've been saving out any weird snippets and POV exercises I've written while working on Twilight and dying to share them anyways.


	2. Photography

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few more snippets from Tim's POV. An ambiguous time period of Chapters 3-5 and ambiguous location of Author Didn't Bother to Write Scenery.

Tim pulled the focus on his telephoto lens and brought his moving target back into center frame. Conner Kent stood unaware of the fact he was the focus of Tim’s attention. Even if he did they were all outside. Tim could just pretend he was shooting the street or trees behind him or something.

“Jesus Tim, stalker much?”

Tim snapped the camera away. “It’s for art.” 

It was his fault for getting careless. He knew Jason had been nearby. Jason just pushed further into his personal space, trying to see the tiny preview on the camera’s digital screen. When Tim didn’t relent, he sighed and stepped back.

“Crazy idea. Have you tried talking to him?”

Tim froze up, hunched in on himself a little as he thought about the conversation he’d just had with Conner earlier that day, and felt his heart sink. Not that it had a right to have been floating earlier that day. It was embarrassing how easily he’d let himself get carried away when Conner started talking to him. And it still stung to realize that he’d gotten caught up in a crush, and on someone who clearly wouldn’t feel the same way.

“He doesn’t like me.”

* * *

The weird thing, the truly weird thing, about Conner Kent was that he was very serious. It took Tim a while to piece that out. Took him a while to understand why it was Conner’s face when he thought no one was looking, set him on edge. He wouldn’t have noticed at all if he hadn’t been spending an unhealthy number of hours watching the other boy.

Jason was right. He was a stalker.

Conner had dimples when he smiled, which got deeper and more pronounced when he smiled for real. And Conner smiled at people a lot. He smiled at Stephanie in the mornings, at Bart during lunch, at his friends when they waved goodbye after school.

But he didn’t smile at Tim. And once that had become obvious, and Tim had taken instead to watching him when he didn’t, couldn’t know, he was being watched, it turned out he didn’t smile much at all if there wasn’t someone to smile for. When Conner was alone, he frowned. Sometimes, on his bad days, he just looked tired, staring off into the distance without really seeing anything, letting people pass him in the hall and brushing past strangers on the sidewalk. It made him look angry. Or maybe it was that combined with his height and stupid punk jacket that made him look angry.

And he studied. A lot. He studied more than anyone Tim had ever seen.

Conner got to school, oftentimes earlier than Tim, and he was almost always head down in a book at the picnic table outside the front entrance. He studied every morning, and he pulled his homework out at lunch even when he was talking to the others, and the very few times Tim had caught him staying back late, he was doing homework then too.

As far as Tim knew he wasn’t in any advanced classes. He might have checked. He might have stolen a copy of it from the front office. But Conner studied like it was going out of style and that perplexed Tim further because he sure as hell didn’t seem like he actually cared about school.

He did no extra circulars. No clubs. No bands. No sports. He never hung around school for very long after the final bell and he never gave away any kind of hint as to what he was really thinking. Every other word out of his mouth was an outrageous story. The kind that sounded practiced. The kind you tell when you’re trying to convince everyone around you that you’ve told the whole truth.

The only conclusion Tim could draw was that, despite outward appearances to the contrary, despite his hair, and his earrings, and the impish grin he sent the Waynes’ way when Stephanie said something outrageous to him at lunch, Conner Kent wasn’t very happy.

And also, he really didn’t like Tim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost didn't post these babies because Stalker Tim. But then figured wth? I wrote a lot of these like, paragraph long fragments between ch17 and ch18 while my brain tried to figure out how to get through the writer's block.


	3. Nightmares and Education

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A loose interpretation of what Jason did/thought during Chapters 8-10.

Duke looked up, saw Jason coming his way, and immediately frowned. Which was rude, but understandable. Jason had not exactly gone out of his way to make a good impression upon the ever growing number of children Bruce seemed to be collecting. But as far as he knew, he and Duke were on good terms, so the reception felt a bit cold. 

Duke snapped shut the book he’d been reading. Jason caught a flash of a title, something about Psychotherapy, which didn’t bode well, and started to make like he was going to leave which, no, wouldn’t do at all. Jason put his arms up, barring the exit to the library. 

“I’m not doing it.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask,” Jason said, and at Duke’s pointed stare added, “Ok. So you do. Why aren’t you doing it again?”

“Why should I?”

“For Tim?”

Duke frowned and tried to step around him. Jason stepped up to block his way again. When Duke just stood there, arms crossed, not looking like he was going to back down Jason sighed.

“Alright, alright. Jesus. Name your terms then.”

Duke stopped and considered it for a moment. Jason watched him, and pretended not to be apprehensive. After all there were other ways to assess a threat. Or a situation, such as the one he found himself in with Conner Kent. He didn’t need Duke, per se...just preferred him to the creative alternatives. 

“Alright. I want you to swear to me on your mother’s grave-”

“But I say to you, swear not at all. Neither by heaven, for it is the throne of God-”

“What?”

“I mean,” Jason held up his right hand over his heart and with a grin said, “on my mother’s grave.”

Duke gave him a look. Jason didn’t know whether he did it to be funny or be mean but he didn’t really care to know either. Whatever bible bits his mother had quoted at him as a child, whatever books he’d committed to memory, that was between him and his very dead mother and Duke, fortunately, let it go.

“You will only use my powers for good.”

“I will only use your powers for good,” Jason parroted. 

Duke tilted his head. His eyes narrowed the way they did when he saw something the rest of the word couldn’t.

“And I want your Xbox.”

Jason spluttered. “Excuse me?”

“Xbox or no dice.”

“You can get your own. You can literally get your own. We have so much money.”

“But I want yours.” 

And damn, well, Jason figured it was his own fault anyways. He scowled at Duke’s grin and said again. “I swear on my mother’s grave. I will use your powers for good, and you can have my Xbox. Also, I hate you, and I’m only doing this because you’re the only goddamn person in the family who will shoot straight with me.”

* * *

Duke spotted their target first. He nudged Jason as they walked towards the school entrance. Across the parking lot Conner Kent sat hunched over a book. The other boy looked serious, eyes hidden by the angle as he thumbed through the pages in front of him. He wore Jason’s brown leather jacket and that made Jason grin. Tim would hate it. It would be perfect. He turned sharply on his heel and started towards him. He had Conner’s jacket tucked under his arm.

“Jay what-”

He heard Tim’s sharp intake of breath behind him when the boy realized where Jason was going.

He didn’t stop, didn’t give him a chance to say anything, and Duke followed dutifully just as he promised. He stepped up to the table, making Kent jump, and held out the jacket. He hoped Tim was still behind him. He hoped Duke held up his end of the deal.

Oddly enough, when Conner looked up and saw the jacket, and the people accompanying it, he looked taken aback. Like he hadn’t thought Jason would return it. He reached up and grabbed the collar of Jason’s jacket like he was about to take it off.

“Keep it. It looks better on you, right Tim?” He paused just long enough to know Tim had probably gone cherry red and added, “Can we sit here? Tim doesn’t get out much and I’m trying to teach him to socialize.”

Conner looked torn. He didn’t look happy to see any of them and his eyes kept wandering over to Tim as the other boy sighed a relented to Jason’s tomfoolery. Jason took a seat next to Conner and Tim slung his bag over his shoulder before slumping into the seat across from them.

Duke sat next to Tim and his eyes, warm and thoughtful, watched Conner. He didn’t look away, didn’t waver, and Conner, once he was done scowling, turned to Duke and appraised him.

He held out a hand. “I’m Conner.”

“I’ve heard. I’m Wayne Six.”

Conner tilted his head. Like a giant overgrown puppy. He looked at Duke blankly.

“What? It’s true. You know he calls me by the wrong name when he’s stressed.” Duke said, not at all put off by Conner’s curious stare.

“He does that to all of us,” Tim spoke softly. He pretended to care about a schoolbook but Jason knew Tim’s tone and thought process well enough now. Could see the way Tim gauged Conner’s reactions almost as carefully as Duke.

“I’m just saying, any more kids and this is going to be less a family, more an orphan collection,” Duke said, eyes still locked on Conner as they stared past him, into him, seeing things Jason would never see.

“So an orphanage, then?” Conner asked. He relaxed a little and flashed a smile at Duke. It seemed Duke had passed whatever assessment Conner had been making. 

Duke smiled in turn. “Oh, he already owns three of those,”

And it seemed, to Jason, Conner had passed Duke’s. Good.

* * *

“Verdict?” Jason asked as they walked away. He was grateful Tim was in a mood lately, made it easier if it turned out Conner really was bad news. Tim would pretend to be ok with it, but it would still hurt if Duke predicted Conner’s eventual death or something.

Duke looked thoughtful. They made their way to Duke’s locker. Jason tended not to use his. Jason let Duke think it over. He wanted the real answer. Duke’s honest assessment.

“He’s going to be trouble,” Duke said slowly. They came to a stop by his locker and Jason let the other boy retrieve his things and hung back to wait for the rest of his response.

Duke took his time, still seeming caught in his head. “But no matter which way I look at it he was going to be trouble anyways and-” Duke’s face split in a grin. “He already suspects.”

“Really?” Jason thought back to Conner and his previous interaction with the boy. Nothing about him suggested he knew. 

“He’s not quite on the right track but you should know his dad is Clark Kent.”

“The reporter? The one from Thanksgiving?”

“The same.”

Well then. That was certainly interesting. That reporter was already more than enough of a problem and if he had an equally nosy kid there would certainly be “trouble” as Duke aptly put.

“What about Tim?”

Duke hesitated.

“We had a deal.”

Duke smiled sadly. “You’re going to regret this.”

“Bite me.”

“Fine. You want assurance? Conner Kent will be the best thing that has ever happened to Tim. And he won’t expose us, not even if it kills him. But don’t act like knowing that means anything Jason. I mean it when I say you’ll regret it. I know you think you’re atoning or whatever but meddling like you want to could make things worse. It’ll happen naturally. Trust me. It's too late to stop it.”

Jason ignored him.

* * *

_Much much later._

As they walked away, Jason heard the nerd table explode. “Dude I think Jason Wayne asked you to Prom.”

Jason turned to hide his grin. He looked over at Tim. "Don't ever say I didn't do anything for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to keep these loose and unedited. Posting for fun instead of for continuity or anything /cue still agonizing over it/


	4. Snippets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some unfinished, unpolished snippets that I was super duper sad didn't make it into the final story.

_Set some time between chapters 15-21._

* * *

“You know I’ve never actually seen you at a game.” Duke said.

Conner yelped and jumped up from the water fountain. Coach Scott had been understandably brutal on him. While fall was cooling everything down, Conner still managed to get back from practice covered in bruises and drenched in sweat. Duke was leaning, cool as a cucumber, against the wall, and laughed as Conner managed to get water all over his already soaked through gym shirt.

“Your entire family has a habit of sneaking up on people,” Conner told him, wiping his face. Duke did look somewhat apologetic and handed Conner a paper towel from the gym dispenser.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Yeah well, what did you want?”

“Stephanie and Cass are waiting out front. They wanted to grab something to eat. Figured you’d like to come along.”

“I can’t.”

“Really?”

“I think I need to go home. I kind of did something really shitty to Clark yesterday.”

“Oh. I see. Well the invitation still stands. And you know you’re always welcome to hang out with us. I know Damian can be uninviting but the rest of us really do like you.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks.”

There was a beat where Duke looked like he wanted to say something, but it was Conner who ended up breaking first. “Does Stephanie know? About any of this?”

Duke looked surprised. And then he gave Conner a sad, sad smile. He shook his head.

“So what, you guys are going to just keep lying to her?”

“I think everyone has secrets.”

“You know that’s not the same. Most people's secrets can’t kill you.”

“Cass won’t let that happen. If it comes to it.”

“It just feels like things are a lot more complicated for me than they are for her.”

“That’s because Tim’s more complicated. But you had to have known that before you asked.” Duke grinned and turned to go. “We’ll be at Freddy’s if you change your mind.”

* * *

_Cut from chapter 17._

* * *

Conner, naturally, was the embodiment of awkwardness when Tim got on the motorcycle and gestured for him to get on the back. He wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t very romantic, what with Tim dressed in seven layers of killing weapons and Conner too large to really fit comfortably. But the proximity still got to him and he could feel his heart start pumping away rapidly, something that seemed to be getting more frequent.

Tim would most certainly kill him at this rate.

Tim zipped through the city, splitting lanes of traffic and ignoring traffic signals, as the sleek little bike took every turn tight and clean. Conner held tight and kept his eyes screwed shut for a large portion of the journey.

* * *

_Set sometime during chapter 23_

* * *

“They leave the fields open on weekends for practice, you guys should come hang out some weekend.” Bart said in passing, “Conner plays football, after all.”

“I don’t,” Conner said, “I just, uh, workout with the team.”

“Well are you getting invited to the sports banquet?”

Tim looked as confused as Conner felt. “The what?”

“It’s where the school puts all that money they saved when they defunded the theater program,” Cissie said helpfully, watching the whole conversation with her holier than thou smirk in place.

“Ignore her, she’s bitter they cut the archery program like, two years ago- ouch!” Bart glared and Cissie just smirked at him and went back to her conversation with Cassie. Bart rubbed at a bruised shin.

“You could invite Tim,” he said as if this was the selling point and Tim sighed, “seeing as you’re not going to prom together.”

“I don’t think-” Conner started as Tim said “That doesn’t mean-”

The bell rang.

* * *

_Snippet of scene cut from chapters 23 and 24 before they were revised._

* * *

Jason was predictably delighted by Tim’s plan, which involved dressing Jason like an older, homeless man, and using him as bait. Conner was appalled.

“And what do we do if the thing actually shows up?” Conner asked. “Jason will be a light snack before he eats us.”

“Why thank you for your concern,” Jason said, pulling on his dirty hole filled jacket, “But I’ll have you know I’m not a snack, I’m a full three course meal.”

Conner never thought he’d be the sane one in any group, but Gotham had proven time and again that he was the only person with any sense in a hundred mile radius. He sighed as Jason started working on his makeup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know this silly fic is the longest thing I've ever written.
> 
> And the funny thing about that is that it turns out when you work on something long, you cut a lot more. I probably wrote 50-80,000 words that never made it into the story. I cut most of it for a reason but some things, even if it's only the idea of them, are too fun for me to let go completely.
> 
> Next chapter will be the alternate epilogue.


	5. Alternate Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternative (but short) epilogue.

There was an audible hiss from the students in the third floor computer lab when the lights flickered on.

“Alright creature of the night, time for bed.”

Tim looked up from where he had hunched over his laptop and winced as Conner stood in the doorway and glanced around the room. The two other students present jumped a little, but quietly grumbled and said nothing.

“You think you’re so funny,” Tim accused. Conner grinned from the doorway. He was still dressed in his work coveralls. A small patch declaring him “Metropolis Emergency Medical Services” was sewn into his right sleeve.

“Guilty as charged. Come on. There’s junk food and wifi at home.”

Virgil watched as the two packed up and left the computer lab, trading quiet and amiable barbs and discussing things like the dishes and their electric bill and Tim’s eating habits.

It was probably in his head. Okay, it was almost definitely in his head. But Virgil couldn’t shake the feeling there was something wrong with Tim Drake Wayne, computer genius billionaire, and his EMT boyfriend. Beyond their general physical perfection, which was obvious and basically the only thing anyone online talked about in regards to the Wayne and his recently-gone-public boyfriend. But having watched them for nearly a semester now, Virgil knew there was something else.

They were freshmen, but they didn’t act like it. If anything they acted like an old married couple. The way they talked about everything, from school to world events, made them sound about forty years older than eighteen and the secret smiles they shared and inside jokes were all rather dark.

Virgil wasn’t sure what the answer was. He wasn’t actually sure what the question he was asking was, but as Conner made a comment about Tim being a blood sucking parasite, and Tim hit him a little too hard in response, he had a sneaking suspicion he would not like the answer. As they were headed out the door, Tim turned around.

“Don’t stay up too late Virgil. I’m going to head home and finish up my half of the project in the morning. Be sure to commit your changes before you go to bed, ok?”

“Sure,” Virgil said.

Tim grinned and behind him, Virgil watched Conner yawn lazily, with an amused smile and unnaturally blue eyes. Virgil swore he saw them flash.

“See you in class.”


	6. Epilogue + 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh, a bit more elaboration on that Epilogue.

There was something weird about Conner Kent. Harper Rowe was sure of it. Being stuck in a rig with the guy for twelve hours straight, Harper felt especially qualified to have an opinion on the matter, but it was generally the consensus of the whole station that there was something just off with Kent.

It wasn’t that he was bad at his job, or difficult to get along with. In fact, Conner had an easy air about him. He had a good sense of humor, a penchant for quoting 90s TV shows, and he was pretty damn nice to top it all off. He always brought the coffee at the start of his shift, always had the rig clean at hand off, and always offered to pick up the extra hours when someone called in sick. But that was part of the problem, and the first reason he was weird.

For someone who worked as many hours as Conner did, he had no business being so goddamn nice. He was all smiles, no matter how early or late, and while he swore like any good first responder, he sounded like a schoolboy and not like someone whose soul had been ground under the heel of the worst humanity had to offer. His first day on the job ended with him covered in shit, sore, and four hours overtime on a graveyard shift and he had simply grinned and offered to wash down the rig while Harper hit the showers. 

It was inhuman.

* * *

“Hey, kid, how long you lived in Metropolis?” Mal asked at one point. Everyone called Conner kid, which came with the territory of being the youngest and newest member of their EMS family.

“Oh,” Conner’s sky blue eyes shifted behind large round frames. He smiled, soft, looking off to the side instead of answering immediately. 

“A little over a year.” He paused, and Harper thought he would continue but he never did. 

* * *

The answer to the question of where Conner was from became another tell. Sometimes it was Gotham - tall tales of drag racing across the Westward Bridge, sneaking out of school, breaking into abandoned warehouses - but sometimes it was Hawaii - endless days on the beach, running from the police, house parties that never ended - and sometimes, of all places, it was a little place called Smallville. Harper never could piece out what the answer was, and more aggressive inquiries only made Conner laugh.

“All three? None. I dunno Harper I’m from a little of all of them, really.” And then he would offer her a coffee or ask her about her own life and she’d let it go because, really, he was a nice guy even if he was totally hiding something.

The other thing that made it difficult to pry was that Conner was obnoxiously good looking. A hint of babyface, but otherwise he was…

Well he was tall, with dark hair and sunny blue eyes, a charming smile full of dimples, and _muscles._ He was broad, and built, and Harper had seen him lift patients 300+ pounds without breaking a sweat. Muscly wasn’t really a character trait, but Conner rolling his shoulders before going to lift something three times his size certainly made it feel like it was. Jocks didn’t usually do it for her, but she had considered making an exception for his biceps.

* * *

It turned out she never did make any exceptions for Conner’s biceps, because he hung out with a whole bunch of very hot women too. Harper could have her pick. Mostly blondes, which caused her to nearly snap her neck when she did a double take one Wednesday morning.

“Come _on,_ Kent,” One of them said, hand on her hips and hips canted in a way that screamed sass and disapproval. Her blond hair was golden, and fell between her shoulder blades in soft waves that had been brushed through one too many times. She wore a purple muscle tank, and hand wraps, and a smirk. She was hot.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Conner said, waving her off. He had his change of clothes clutched under his arm and the group (the four blondes plus Conner) were attracting quite the audience. Several heads poked out of the station to watch. Megan was pretending to wash down her rig, but Garfeild was openly staring.

“You promised,” one of the other blondes said. This one wore a white tennis skirt and had straight bleach blond hair. She had eyeliner that could stab a man and when she saw Harper openly staring, smirked, but then immediately turned her attention back to Conner.

“I’m leaving town tonight. I’ve got an audition on the west coast that’s more important than you. Come on, are you really going to let four ladies wander around a strange city all alone.”

“Okay, first,” Conner said, embarrassment at being confronted in front of his coworkers evaporating at the tone, “Putting aside the way you’re baiting me using incredibly sexist and outdated gender role expectations-” 

“Ooh. Breaking out the big words now. Did your college boy teach you that?” Punky chick in the purple grinned.

Conner ignored her, hands raised like he thought he could appease the beast these girls were turning out to be. “You’re Gotham girls. If anyone in the city so much as looked at you funny, you would eat them for lunch.”

The bleach blonde threw her head back and laughed, full and loud, while a girl in the back with cropped hair said, “Damn straight.”

And now that Harper looked at them, there was something different about these girls. She thought she could see the Gotham peaking out in the way their smiles were a touch mean, and their jokes a tad underhanded.

Someone cleared their throat. Mal stood, tall and broad, arms crossed as he stepped out of the station.

“Kid, your shift is starting.”

Kent swore. “Sorry, sorry. Girls, I gotta go.”

Mal looked between the four blondes with their predatory eyes and Conner’s retreating back. 

“On second thought kid, maybe Karen can grab your shift.”

* * *

Harper didn’t see the four girls again. Occasionally she thought she caught a flash of blonde out of the corner of her eye, but never again did all four show up on the station steps. 

“Do you think he’s dating any of them?” Megan asked one day in the break room.

Harper looked up. Megan was staring through the break room window, watching Conner as he clambered into the back of the rig to...do something Harper wasn’t sure. They’d gotten off a long night and she really didn’t want to do this right now.

“What?” she said, though she knew what.

“You know, Conner, you think he’s seeing anyone?”

“Definitely not any of those girls,” Harper said, remembering the attitude and the wink with a bit of fondness. Those girls would have eaten him alive, just like he said.

Megan nodded to herself and Harper ignored her until she could leave and collapse in bed.

Harper’s suspicions were confirmed when punk blonde came back arm in arm with a gorgeous asian woman, who beamed at Conner when he stepped out of the station one evening. She grinned even as she watched Megan light up at the sight of them.

* * *

Conner was a fucking good EMT. Like, really fucking good. And it was funny, because any trained monkey could do what they did, Harper felt some days. And other days she wanted to grab the other medics out in the field and shake them because this job required you to use your fucking brain and you couldn’t forget things. Couldn’t let things slip.

Conner didn’t let things slip. No matter how loud or chaotic it got. The patient could be screaming and he’d be there, taking vitals without flinching. 

The first time they lost a patient he didn’t skip a beat. While Harper’s mouth kept stumbling over the basic fucking syllabus of the report they were supposed to give to the nurse, Conner simply stepped forward, gentle hand on her arm.

They’d tried. But sometimes they were too late and mother nature was a real bitch.

They wound up at a 7-11 at two in the morning, with Conner sucking down a blue slurpee in a cup the size of a bucket. Harper collapsed on the curb. She’d been doing this longer than Conner, by a year at least, but watching him fiddle with the keys in his hand and suck down his weight in corn syrup and blue food dye she felt small.

“That one was rough,” Conner said, taking a seat on the curb beside her.

“Are they ever not?” Harper asked. And yeah, sometimes they weren’t. Sometimes they were just old and passed in their sleep, or it was obvious there was nothing you could do.

Other times you did the compressions, counted the seconds, and even though you knew logically the chance of them waking up was slim at best you still beat yourself up for it later.

“They can be less rough.” He bumped her shoulder, in that soft amicable way coworkers or brothers in arms did. “You need a few?”

“Just a few.”

“You smoke?”

“Do you?” Harper’s eyes snapped up to his All-American jaw structure and laughing blue eyes, evaluating.

“Only on special occasions,” he said, and tossed her a carton of Marlboro Reds.

Harper stopped worrying so much about what Conner was hiding after that.

* * *

“Hi,” a boy, young man, Harper couldn’t tell, but he didn’t look older than 18, stepped up to her in the break room of the station. He had black hair, thick and a bit messy. It looked styled. He smiled softly at her, glasses catching the light as he held out his hand. “I’m Tim. I’m waiting for someone could I-?”

Harper gestured to the seat across from her, and Tim gratefully slid into it, dropping his computer bag on the floor beside him.

“Who are you waiting for?” Harper asked.

Tim shrugged and said, too casually, “My boyfriend.”

Harper’s mind screeched to a halt.

Oh. _Oh._

Secrets indeed, Mr. Kent. Though really, Conner had nothing he needed to hide. Besides Gar teasing a bit. Megan would be incredibly disappointed though. Harper bit down a grin.

“Your boy should be out in a sec. We just got off he’s probably-”

Conner stumbled into the room. His hair was wet, he’d definitely grabbed a shower in the locker room. He grinned when he saw Tim, but stiffened a little at Harper.

“Sorry. I thought I was picking you up.”

Tim shrugged. “Class let out early. Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Conner said. He ran a hand through his hair and this was the most nervous Harper had ever seen him.

“Is it date night?” She asked, aiming for the type of casual Tim had used earlier. 

Conner beamed at her for her efforts and Harper hated how much she kind of liked the guy. Where did he get off being so nice? He crossed the room as Tim stood and looped their arms together.

“Something like that,” he said. “Tell Mal my PCRs are on his desk.”

“Have fun,” Harper said.

When the two finally disappeared, Gar popped his head into the room, eyes bugging out of his head.

“What, freak?”

“That was _Tim Wayne.”_


End file.
